


Song of Our Hearts

by BlueNeutrino, gabriels_steth



Series: Heart of Angels [1]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cardiophilia, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Heartbeat Kink, Heartbeats, M/M, Music, Rockstar AU, Smut, Stething, cardiorotica, shower fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:57:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueNeutrino/pseuds/BlueNeutrino, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriels_steth/pseuds/gabriels_steth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha Collins has been in love with rockstar Jensen Ackles since first hearing his music four years ago. When a competition win brings him face to face with the rock god himself, the pair find themselves experiencing an instantaneous attraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Angel Eyes That Could Stop My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This fic actually came out of a passive idea and conversation between BlueNeutrino and myself on tumblr. Next thing I knew, she had posted the first segment and it grew from there. It was originally intended for our personal entertainment, until we found out we had fans who loved it. And we'd like to thank those fans for keeping us encouraged and giving us their support. We thank one of those fans for helping us come up with the title. We love you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen is used to being in total control over his heartbeat. It's essential to his music. However, he's unprepared for the way a pair of sapphire eyes makes him feel.

 

 

Jensen breathes deep, readying himself to belt out the final note of the song. He feels his heart thumping, its bass line drumming in his ribcage and pounding out of the PA system surrounding him. It’s taken years of practice to get to this point. Through hard work and no small amount of natural skill, Jensen learned to keep his heartbeat under control, knowing how to move and how to breathe so that his heart acts as a faithful metronome for the band behind him. It gives his music a personal and unique touch, so the critics said. Or at least half of them did. Supposedly, it was “pretentious” according to the other half; but standing here with the music and the cheering of the crowd ringing in his ears, Jensen really doesn’t give a fuck.

His fingers curl tighter around the mic; and he closes his eyes as he lets loose the final soaring note of the song. He feels the pressure in his chest build, and then gradually ease with the steady rush of air leaving his lungs. Predictably, his heart thumps a little faster. The band follows it, the guitars and drums crescendo-ing to the final climax where Jensen feels his lungs are almost empty as his spine curves as he pushes out the last beat of the note; and then it’s over. A lulled heartbeat passes before the crowd erupts into a mad frenzy of cheers.

Jensen grins, allowing the euphoria to wash over him as he stares out into the sea of faces in front of him. Sweat trickles down under the band holding the steth-mic to his chest while his heartbeat continues to boom throughout the venue, gradually slowing in the wake of the adrenaline rush. He touches his chest and then holds his hand out to the crowd. “Thank you. We are Heart of Angels. You’ve been amazing. Goodnight!” They go even wilder in their cheering before Jensen takes a bow and turns to leave the stage. He’ll be back in a few minutes, playing one more song for the encore as the audience’s final treat, but for now it’s a quick break: chance to breathe, chance to drink, and to recover.  
The roadies waiting offstage to offer him a towel and a water bottle are a welcome sight, and he reaches out to accept them gratefully. He lets his eyes scan casually over the faces of those waiting in the wings- some of whom he knows, some he doesn’t, but he’s entirely unprepared for what happens when his gaze lands on one completely unfamiliar. It’s the eyes that get him: a stunning shade of blue, twinkling with starstruck awe and set in a face that Jensen thinks he could stare at forever. The water bottle freezes half way to Jensen’s lips as their eyes meet.

For the first time in a long while, Jensen feels his heart give an unexpected skip. The sounds of it echo from the speakers, his steth-mic still very much attached to his chest and switched on; and then, Jensen feels the fluttering inside him as his heart starts to race. It’s an almost frightening feeling for him as he realises he’s powerless to control it, completely at the mercy of whatever the blue eyed angel has done to him. His heart’s running wild and he knows the audience can hear every beat.

“Whoa, Jensen, you okay, man?”

The voice on his left cuts into his awareness so that he’s forced to tear his transfixed gaze away from the stranger, and it almost comes as a relief. He can feel his face flushing with embarrassment, knowing everybody can hear his reaction in the way his heart has suddenly begun pounding. He’s grateful when another roadie finally takes the cue to switch the PA system off.

“Yeah, Jerry, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it,” Jensen tries to brush off, swallowing awkwardly. “Just, uh…out of breath, I guess.”

Jerry’s brow creases, but he seems to think little else of it. “Alright, well, maybe I should introduce you to the competition winner? You know, for the access-all-areas pass.” Jensen feels his heart lurch again as he realises that Jerry is gesturing at the gorgeous stranger. “Jen, this is Misha…”

Misha had watched the entire show from the direct edge of the stage- or as close as security allowed anyway. Normally, he sang along with each word to every Heart of Angels song; but tonight, he had been enveloped in Jensen’s beautiful, live-in-person, beating heart. That’s what he’d fallen in love with to begin with. It made the music that much more emotional and real. Misha had even taken his favorite ballad and edited it down so all that was left was Jensen’s slow, steady heartbeat… and Misha would fall asleep to the sound every night. Now, here he is: face-to-face with the man who belongs to the powerful words and enrapturing heartbeat. Misha blushes and trembles slightly, his own heart fluttering frantically against his ribs like the wings of a caged bird. He smiles, trying not to over-fanboy, and waves shyly. “It’s really, um… an honor… a privilege to be here. I’ve been a fan for years. But I’m sure you hear that all the time, so I’ll just return to not speaking.” He clams up, feeling stupid for saying something so generic when he’d planned to say so many deep, unique, and thoughtful things. Dammit…

Jensen watches the blush spread over the shorter man’s cheeks, entranced by the way his dark eyelashes cast shadows over the rosy skin as he looks downwards. His nervousness is a match for Jensen’s own. Taking another gulp of water to mask his awkward swallowing, Jensen gives what he hopes is a totally-cool-and-chill-rock-god shrug. “Hey, I guess I do hear that a lot, but it never gets old.” Ugh, that sounded so narcissistic. Quick, say something else. “Uh…what I mean is, you don’t have to shut up because of me. Please, tell me about yourself.”

With Jerry going to see to the rest of the band, Jensen takes the lead in walking Misha further backstage, trying his hardest to remain casual although his heart is still in his throat. Misha’s eyes light up as he looks back up at Jensen, amazed that his idol is taking an interest in him, and he feels his heart stutter in his chest. “Well, I uh…I’m from Boston,” Misha attempts lamely as he tries to think of something Jensen might find interesting. “And uh…I’ve been a fan for four years, ever since the band started out.” He still thinks that makes him seem like a lame fanboy, but Jensen gives him an easy smile.

“Boston, huh? I don’t think we ever got out there until our third tour. This your first gig?”

Misha shakes his head. “No, um…I’ve been to several, actually. Saw you three times on the last tour. It was… amazing.”

That honestly doesn’t seem like an adequate word to describe it, but Jensen quirks an eyebrow. “Well…that’s dedication.” He gulps nervously again, although Misha doesn’t seem to notice. “What is it you like so much about us that you’d want to watch the same set three times?”

Now it’s Misha’s turn to nervously swallow, his heart pounding out a bruising tattoo behind his sternum as if it wants Jensen to hear it. “Honestly?” Misha wonders if he dares to say it. “It’s your heartbeat. Just…what it brings to the music, how personal it is, how much it emotion it carries…It just makes the music something else.”

"Well, that's the point. But you'd be surprised how many people miss out on that. I wanted to do something personal. If I can touch somebody's life and make them feel what I'm feeling... Oh man, I can't even begin to describe the sense of fulfillment it gives me. And I'm glad I could do that for you." Jensen stops outside the dressing room- a black door with a piece of paper taped to it that reads, in Impact font: Heart of Angels. He nods toward the door. "Well, here's our stop. You wanna come in?"

Misha is too dumbfounded to even find any words. He wants to speak, but his mouth won't open. After a moment of stunned silence, he nods emphatically. Jensen opens the door and steps in, leaving Misha to follow timidly in his wake. The musician's bodyguard steps forward as well. "Don't get any ideas. I'm planting myself right here," he informed the fan, leaning against the still-open door.

Misha is too dumbfounded to even find any words. He wants to speak, but his mouth won't open. After a moment of stunned silence, he nods emphatically. Jensen opens the door and steps in, leaving Misha to follow timidly in his wake. The musician's bodyguard steps forward as well. "Don't get any ideas. I'm planting myself right here," he informed the fan, leaning against the still-open door.

“Nah, it’ll be fine, Cliff. He’s not gonna cause any trouble, are you?” Jensen grins as he gives Misha a playful punch on the arm, and Misha’s heart skips a beat. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that this is actually happening- that he’s about to be alone in a dressing room with Jensen fucking Ackles- and his heart is drumming a wild rhythm of excitement. The bodyguard gives him a distrustful glower, but then nods in acquiescence and closes the door to leave the pair of them on their own.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the amazing Izzy!


	2. Heart of an Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen has only ever been explicitly familiar with his own heartbeat. Now there's a new rhythm for him to learn.

The room is the typical luxurious, disorganised mess one would expect of an internationally famous rock star. Black leather couches sit in a U-shape in the center of the room, surrounding a glass coffee table with its surface mostly obscured by magazines, candy wrappers, empty beer cans and other assorted clutter. On the side wall, a wide dressing room mirror surrounded by glowing bulbs provides the illumination for the room, giving it a somewhat dingy feel; and there are more guitars propped up against various vertical surfaces than Misha cares to count. At the back of the room, there’s what looks like a fridge or mini-bar tucked away in a corner.

Jensen turns and shoots Misha another bright grin, looking genuinely at ease. “Just you and me, Mish,” he says, turning to head to the mini-bar and taking out two bottles of beer. “All-access pass, so, this is all your access. No holds barred.” He picks up a bottle opener from the cluttered table and snaps the caps off of them, then holds one out to Misha, who still hasn’t moved far from the door. “Beer?”

Tentatively, the dark-haired man steps forward to accept it, self-consciously mumbling his thanks as Jensen takes a gulp from his own bottle. _Holy shit, did Jensen Ackles just offer me a beer?_ Jensen waves absently at the couch as he unceremoniously plants himself down on it, stretching his legs out to rest on the already near-buried coffee table. “Take a seat. Any questions you got, shoot.”

Misha sips at his own drink nervously. “Well, I…” he begins, his mouth having gone dry despite the liquid. “I guess what I wanted to know is, how do you go about writing songs? Like, where do you start with all the... I mean, with your…?” He trails off awkwardly as he trips over his words, hiding it by taking another deep gulp and averting his eyes to the floor as Jensen meets his gaze. He feels the blood suddenly rush to his cheeks, an outward betrayal of the nerves raging through his system.

When there’s a silent pause, Misha looks up to see Jensen studying him intently, and he feels the pit of the stomach drop out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ask anything too personal…” Misha suddenly blurts out, dreading that he’s done something wrong, but Jensen dismisses it with a wave of his hand.

“Nah, it’s a good question,” he says, setting his beer down by his feet. Misha feels his own heart skip as he watches Jensen reach a hand up beneath his t-shirt to the band still around his chest, and then he takes out the stethmic from its holder and holds it up for Misha to see. “If I’m feeling hi-tech, I’ll wear this; plug it into my computer, then play the sound over the speakers while I write. If not, I guess I just…tune in. Focus on my heartbeat. You know how it changes depending on your mood, and how sometimes you can feel it more than others, and that’s really good for creativity. That’s pretty much how I started off; just sitting in my room with a guitar, feeling my heart, and trying to play music in time. But sometimes when that’s not easy, I use this.” He leans forward, setting down the mic and shuffling some of the magazines on the table to reveal something that makes Misha’s own heart begin to pound.

It’s a stethoscope: dual head Sprague, emerald green to match the stunning color of Jensen’s eyes. Jensen picks it up, slipping the chestpiece beneath his shirt and sliding it into the holder vacated by the mic. Misha watches, enthralled, as Jensen fits in the eartips and then reaches over to pick up an acoustic guitar resting against the other couch, before settling himself back down with the instrument on his lap. He strums a few chords casually, staring off into the distance, and Misha feels a surge of jealousy at whatever it is he’s currently hearing.

The musician plucks a few more notes, adjusting the machine heads to tune up; and then, he plays a brief a sequence of chords that Misha recognises as 'Stairway to Heaven'. _Tempoed to his heartbeat?_ Misha wonders. Then, Jensen begins playing a rhythm that isn’t familiar- it's somewhat stop-start as Misha figures out he’s improvising.

Misha doesn’t move, and barely even breathes as he listens, entranced, as the melody becomes more fluid. Jensen finds his rhythm, the notes falling into place over the steady bassline of his heart, and Misha becomes lost in the music. The calm but uplifting melody seems to form the perfect soundtrack for this moment. He can’t stop staring at Jensen, watching the way his fingers move effortlessly along the fretboard and fluently pluck at the strings, or concentrating on the point where his throat meets his collar and wondering if he’ll see a throb of the pulse that’s dictating the beautiful tune.

Jensen plays, eyes closed, oblivious to all else in the world for several minutes before finally wrapping up with a few notes of a G minor scale. He lets the last one linger before looking over at Misha again, giving the older man a slightly self-conscious grin. “Any good?”

For a moment, Misha still forgets to breathe. Then, he finally gathers himself to answer. “Yes, it was…beautiful.” He means it wholeheartedly, but he can’t quite stop himself from wistfully adding, “It’s just…” before trailing off.

Jensen frowns. “But what?”

“But…it’s not quite the same. Hearing your music without your heartbeat. It doesn’t feel…quite like you.”

“Oh?” Jensen quirks an eyebrow at him, and Misha’s sure he’s dreaming as he hears the next words to come out of Jensen’s mouth. “Here, guess you should take this then.”

He hasn’t quite registered what’s happening as he sees Jensen take out the earpieces and hold them out, gesturing for him to move closer; and then the realisation hits him like a tidal wave. His body seems to move on autopilot as he shifts to sit closer, unable to believe he’s really here and doing this;then he puts the eartips in. There’s an agonising fraction of a second in which Misha has to adjust them before he hears it: the steady _lubdub lubdub_ of Jensen’s heart. His own heart seems to stop as he thinks: ' _am I really hearing Jensen Ackles’ actual, real-life beating heart?'_ If Misha hadn’t suddenly found all his muscles had frozen, he’d have pinched himself.

Jensen gives him another small smile, and Misha swears he hears his heartbeat flutter briefly before he resumes playing again. He falls into the same melody as before readily, and this time Misha can hear the way it harmonises with the steady thumping in his ears. The guitar music sounds strangely muffled through the earpieces, but Misha really doesn’t think it could even begin to be as beautiful as the beating of Jensen’s heart anyway.

_Lubdub lubdub lubdub…_

At first, Jensen had closed his eyes to begin playing again; but as he opens them, Misha finds himself staring into pools of green. It takes him by surprise, making his own heartbeat skip, but Jensen’s holds steady… for a moment. Then the musician’s heart flutters.

It surprises Misha. That was one thing that was so unique about Jensen: the impressive way he could keep his heartbeat under control, that it always stayed matched to the music he wanted to play. But now Misha is hearing it for real, and he heard it falter.

Jensen seems to feel the mistaken beat. He fluffs a note and the guitar twangs horribly, causing another skip as he blushes hard. “Sorry,” he murmurs, making an effort to continue, but his heartbeat is quite audibly faster now. Misha’s own heart begins to race as he wonders, _wait… am I doing that?_

Only a minute later, and Jensen’s hands leave the fretboard, unable to make the music work with his racing heart. “I’m sorry, Misha, I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” He’s blushing madly, hand going to his chest to remove the chestpiece from its holder; before Misha can even think what he’s doing, his own hand has flown up to stop it.

“No…” He breathes the word softly; and Jensen pauses, lips parted as he meets Misha’s eyes again. Misha thinks his own heart will burst out of his chest. “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with you. This is all the music I want to hear.” Misha has his hand over Jensen’s, resting on the chestpiece;he can actually feel it knocking in time with Jensen’s pounding heart.

Time almost seems to have stilled in this moment between them, if it weren’t for the frantic racing of Jensen’s heartbeat to drive it forward. Neither of them really knows what’s happening next as they begin to lean towards each other over the guitar, almost subconsciously, closer and closer until their lips touch: gentle and tentative. Misha hears Jensen’s heart go wild.

It's a flurry of emotions and sensations as Misha's own heartrate skyrockets, making it feel like his entire chest is fluttering. He stops breathing when he realizes- truly realizes- that Jensen's soft, beautiful lips are against his. His heart skips twice and his mind is the last to catch up, thinking, ' _Oh god. we're kissing. He's kissing me. I'm kissing Jensen Sex-God-of-Rock Ackles. And his heart is racing. Does that mean he likes this? Oh god..._ '

When his lungs start burning, begging him to breathe, Misha pulls away, wide-eyed and stunned. "I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." He trails off, eyes darting bewteen Jensen's eyes, lips and chest. His own heart was pounding so hard that it was shaking his whole body, almost like it wanted to escape into the rock star's hands, begging ' _Listen to me! It's my turn!_ '

Jensen shakes his head, trying to catch his own breath as he, too, had stopped taking in air during their kiss. "No-- it's... I did, too. I mean... we both participated, so... it's not your fault or anything." His heart is still galloping, feeling like it's doing backflips in his chest.

Misha swallows hard and nods. "So... is it... Am I the reason your heart is doing that?"

Jensen gives him a shy smile. "Uhm... yeah. And... you're the reason they had to shut off the broadcast. When I came off stage and my heart skipped like that? That was right when I saw you for the first time."

"Oh," Misha breaths out, his face turning scarlet. He made Jensen's heart skip. He made Jensen's heart race. He made Jensen lose control over his heartbeat. "But... I'm just a fan..." He speaks timidly, surprised by that fact.

"Well, sweetheart, that's what I'm doing all this for. That's why I love my job. Because it makes people happy. It makes people feel things. Fans are like family to me. And you're _not_ 'just a fan'. You're a person. A damn good-looking one, too." Jensen grins as Misha's blush darkens. "And you're obviously passionate. You're dedicated. I can tell you're smart. And you're the first fan to give a shit about how I write. Most just want to know 'why' this and 'why' that and 'will you sign my cleavage?'. Same ol' questions over and over get tiring. You, Misha... you're interesting. And I want to get to know you better. Even in the small amount of time I have with you tonight."

Poor Misha is rendered silent. Jensen really thinks all of this of him? From just their first twenty minutes together? Is he really that special? And oh... Jensen thinks he's 'damn good-looking'. Well, that... is kind of awesome too. "Okay," Misha says at last, taking the earpieces of the stethoscope out of his ears. He does so reluctantly, but he figures it would make conversation easier.

"Yeah? Awesome." Jensen smiles and reaches for his beer, taking a swig before setting it back on the table. He looks the older man over briefly. "I have an idea..." He takes the chestpiece out from under his shirt and takes the earpieces from Misha, fitting them in his ears. He gestures toward Misha's chest with the diaphragm of the stethoscope. "May I?"

Misha blinks rapidly and his heart begins to beat excitedly as if saying _'Yes! Yes, this is what I've been waiting for! My destiny!_ ' Clearing his throat, Misha nods again. "Yeah. Okay." He swallows hard.

Jensen smiles brightly and presses the chestpiece over Misha's heart. If the organ wasn't thrashing so wildly, it would be quieter- muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt. Jensen closes his eyes, listening intently. He wants to get to know Misha, and this is a great way to do just that.

_LubDUBlubDUBlubDUBlubDUB..._

"You have a beautiful heartbeat," Jensen sighs wistfully, eyes still closed as he listens. "Even as excited or nervous as it is... It's clear and steady and _beautiful_."

Still surprised and blushing, Misha just stares at Jensen as his heart is listened to by his favorite musician in the world. _Is this even really happening?_ "Um... thank you," he meakly squeaks out.

"Take a deep breath, hold it for a moment, then let it out slowly," Jensen instructs. "That will help slow it down. You'll see why I'm asking this of you in a second."

Misha would never question this musical genius, this man he admires so. He does as instructed and takes in a deep breath, holding it for about ten heartbeats, and letting it out slowly between parted lips. As planned, his heart slows. _Lub dub... lub dub... lub dub_

74 bpm. A perfect metronome. Jensen finally opens his eyes. He gently takes hold of Misha's right hand and brings it up so he'll hold the chest piece in place. Once Misha gets the hint, Jensen removes his own hand and picks up the acoustic guitar again, letting his eyes fall shut as he loses himself to the rhythm of the other man's heart. He plucks a few chords before finding the beginning chord he wanted: F major. From there, he begins to improvise: composing a brand new melody to the steady beat of Misha's heart.

Misha has to remember to breathe. He concentrates on drawing air steadily into his lungs- _inhale…exhale…-_ while he holds the diaphragm firmly in place. It’s almost like he’s floating in a dream, although his wildest fantasies couldn’t compare. The music Jensen plays is beautiful. Misha can’t quite put his finger on why, but it’s…different to how his music sounds when it’s based on his own heart. This is somehow more… adventurous, less structured, and the sense of spontaneity fills Misha with a thrill. Maybe that’s because Misha’s heart is so unfamiliar to Jensen and he’s having to learn something new.

Contemplating Jensen learning his heartbeat triggers something to swell inside Misha’s chest, and his heart gives a skip. Jensen raises a teasing eyebrow when he hears it, and Misha blushes crimson. “Sorry," he mumbles, but Jensen just gives him a slight– affectionate?– smile.

“Nothing to be sorry for. It’s little things like that that add character. Lets you know it’s a human heart you’re listening to, not just some synthesised fake.” He adapts to the change in Misha’s heart rhythm perfectly, improvising a new phrase before slipping fluidly back into his previous motif as Misha’s heart resumes a steady beat. He doesn’t break concentration as he glances up at Misha’s chest and speaks again. “That’s gonna leave a mark, holding it like that,” he remarks, noticing how tightly Misha is crushing the diaphragm to his chest.

That doesn’t help change the shade of scarlet Misha has turned. “Sorry,” he says again without thinking, then adds, “I’m just kinda nervous. Can’t believe I’m actually doing this, y’know?”

Jensen gives him an easy smile, trying to put him at ease. “Try to relax a little. The sound’s actually better if you hold it more gently.”

Misha draws a deep breath and tries to do as he’s told, realising his fingers are trembling. He doesn’t dare speak, not wanting to distort the sound of his heart for Jensen, but Jensen keeps talking to him anyway. “You’ve got a bit of sinus arrhythmia going on,” he comments. “Your heart gets faster when you breathe like that. Makes a good challenge for me.” His fingers flurry over the fretboard again, and Misha’s sure he’s going to be waking from this dream at any moment, because no way can this be real. The sense of unreality only heightens when [Jensen begins to sing](http://cardiaccadillac.tumblr.com/post/125467404598/right-okay-i-was-nervous-as-all-fuck-about), voice soft and deep:

“ _Hello there, my perfect stranger_  
_It’s so good at last to meet ya_  
_Don’t you know you’ve got my heartbeat_  
_Running away with you?_

 _Blue eyes, could you be an angel?_  
_Turn my heart into a rebel_  
_Cos now you know you got my heartbeat_  
_Running away with you_

 _Chase my blood through my veins faster_  
_Wish I knew just what you’re after_  
_Now you know you got my heartbeat_  
_Pounding hard, so loud for you..._ ”

Jensen finishes his little song, letting the lingering last note fade out. When it is quiet except for the sound of Misha's heartbeat in his ears, he opens his eyes to look at the other man, waiting for a reaction or comment.

Poor Misha has stopped breathing, so completely awestruck by the way the lyrics rolled off Jensen's tongue from the top of his head- and the meaning to them, too. And Jensen sounded so different in an intimate setting like this, but no less beautiful. Misha's heart begins to reflect his lack of breath as it speeds up, pounding more forcefully for want of oxygen, but the man doesn't move. He is unsure whether to cry or laugh or tackle Jensen to the floor and make love to him right there. Well, the third option is probably out...

Hearing the increase in Misha's heart rate, Jensen realises he isn't breathing, but staring at him, lips parted and wide-eyed. "Misha? You okay?" Finally, Misha blinks and takes a gulp of air. His heart thanks him, slowing back down gradually. Jensen smiles at that. "Good. Breathing's a good first step."

Misha still doesn't have the mind to lower the chest piece of the stethoscope, but he does- somehow magically- have it in him to lean forward and seal his lips against Jensen's. The musician laughs softly and runs his fingers through Misha's feather-soft dark hair. When he pulls away, Misha whispers, "I'm sorry. I don't know how to react or what to say. I can't believe I'm not dreaming. That was the most beautiful thing I think I've ever heard."

Jensen blushes slightly and chews his bottom lip. "I'm glad you liked it, but I have to say... The most beautiful thing I think I've ever heard..." He puts his hand over Misha's- the one still gripping the chestpiece. "...is your heartbeat." Their lips meet again and Misha's heart skips into an erratic, excited beat.

_Lub dub, lub--- LubDUBlubDUBlubDUBlubDUBlubDUBlubDUBlubDUBlubDUB..._

If they’re kissing for minutes, it only feels like a second before Misha feels Jensen smile and then pull back an inch. The other man’s green eyes are wide and staring intently at Misha. “What car do you drive?”

“Whu…what?” The question takes Misha by surprise, and he frowns as he wonders where that came from.

It’s just turning the moment slightly awkward before Jensen says, “Seriously. Tell me the license number. I’ll have one of my guys pick it up.” He steals another quick kiss from Misha before adding. “You’re coming back to the hotel with me.”

Misha’s heart practically somersaults and starts dancing inside his chest. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Jensen smiles, a look that’s somewhere between sincere and seductive. “You have an incredible heart, Misha. I’d like to get to know it better.”

 

 


	3. The Ecstasy of Your Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Only the united beat of sex and heart together can create ecstasy." -Anais Nin

It feels like the gravity has been turned off inside Misha's body, and the surreal feeling is back. He's not entirely sure what's happening, but he's on his feet with Jensen. The stethoscope is no longer connected to either of them, but folded neatly in Jensen's hand. The other hand is holding Misha's as they leave the room. Clif tries to question it, but Jensen holds up his hand. "Clif, if he was going to kill me, he'd have done it by now. I just want privacy for the rest of the night, okay? I'll pay you extra if I have to." The bodyguard finally concedes and steps aside.

Misha still feels like he's floating, the only thing grounding him is the steady thudding of his heart against his chest. It's the one sensation he feels besides Jensen's hand in his. This has to be a dream. And what exactly was Jensen planning on taking him to the hotel for? Misha has a hunch, but he doesn't want to assume. How could he be worthy of laying with this sex god of a musician?

Jensen leads Misha to the back of the parking lot. Misha is expecting a stretch limo- one of those ones that looked like a Hummer. Instead, there's a crimson Maserati Granturismo. "Seems snotty to have a driver without a limo, I know, but if I'm not driving, I can write or tune my guitar and stuff." Jensen opens the back door to let Misha slide in first.

In awe, Misha runs his hands over the black upholstery of the blood-coloured car. It's gorgeous. He's never been in a car this nice. He looks back at Jensen who slides in next to him. "Alright. Back to the hotel, please," he tells the driver before sliding closer to Misha, the stethoscope still in his hand.

Blue eyes dart from the stethoscope, to Jensen's face, out the windshield and back. Misha still can't believe this his happening. He's not sure what's in store. Jensen takes his wrist and his fingers find Misha's radial pulse. "You're nervous," the musician comments. "Ninety-seven. Just breathe. " Misha nods and takes a deep breath or two

"My car, by the way... the license number is 'H-R-T-O-N-G-L-S'. It's the closest I could get it to say 'Heart of Angels'," he admits, turning almost as crimson as the car they're riding in.

Jensen smiles. "You really are our biggest fan, aren't you?" He sends out a few texts, to have Misha's car picked up and to tell the rest of his band that he'd gone back to the hotel and that he'd see them in the morning.

"No," Misha replies quietly, "Just yours."

Jensen laughs. "Fair enough."

A few moments later, they're pulling up to the hotel and Jensen leads Misha out of the car, having never let go of the stethoscope. As they ride the elevator up to Jensen's floor, Misha is quite certain Jensen can hear the _BABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOM_ of his heartbeat without the stethoscope. When the elevator stops, so does Misha's heart and Jensen winks at him.

“Your heart’s desperate for me to hear it, isn’t it?” the green eyed man teases, taking hold of Misha’s hand to pull him through the opening doors.

Stunned, Misha gulps. “Wait-- can you?” Not really answering, Jensen just chuckles and tugs harder on Misha’s hand. As if in a daze, Misha allows himself to be led down the hallway towards Jensen’s suite, hyperaware of his palpitating heart and Jensen’s fingertips pressing on his radial pulse. The rock star scowls impatiently at the door as he struggles to get the key card to work, but the instant it does, Misha isn’t even sure what’s happening before he’s pulled through the doorway and then Jensen’s lips are crashing against his.

Hands tangle in his hair, rough and desperate, before he feels Jensen somehow maneuvering the stethoscope into his ears. Jensen’s mouth never leaves his as they both fumble with their clothes, trying to get shirts out of the way before Jensen presses the chestpiece over his own heart. Instinctively, Misha’s hand flies up to grasp it, and Jensen’s hand comes to rest over his as he holds it in place. The musician’s heartbeat is frantic, aggressively knocking against Misha’s fingers just as fiercely as Jensen’s mouth is attacking his lips.

“You hear that?” Jensen mumbles, not willing to pull back enough to ask clearly. The dark haired man snatches a breath, but his attempt to answer turns into a moan as he feels Jensen’s hot fingers push up his shirt to rest against the bare skin of his chest. His heart skips and slams hard against Jensen’s palm.

The rockstar chuckles again, and Misha hears it rumbling through the earpieces of the stethoscope. “Don’t worry, angel. Your heart will get its turn soon.”

Misha’s heart makes another hard skip, begging Jensen to hear it again, before Misha suddenly finds himself being dragged towards the bed.

For a moment- a neverending moment- Misha is afraid his heart is going to beat its way out of his chest and into Jensen's hand. It feels like it wants to, desperate as it is to be heard. But somehow Misha knows that even if it did, it would be safe and appreciated. The younger man shared his same passion, and somehow, this passion burned white hot when shared between the two of them.

Jensen's fingers brush over Misha's nipples, making the man gasp as they collapse onto the bed together. He hears Jensen inhale slightly and hold his breath, causing his heart to speed up. That's when Misha realises... The rockstar is teasing him: letting his heart go without the attention it craves while Misha listens to Jensen's heart do everything from skip to thump wildly.

The older man is amazed by how long the other can hold his breath, but is distracted by the sound of his heartbeat and the fingernails leaving light scratches down his torso. Misha squirms, desperate in so many ways now.

When Jensen finally exhales, Misha groans when the heart he's listening to crashes against his hand over and over again, the sound nearly deafening him. Jensen has to pull away to catch his breath properly, panting slightly. He smirks down at the other man. "You like that, don't you?" His own heart skips and he winks at Misha again. "Lucky for you, I know just how to control it so you can hear what you want."

Misha whimpers, equally amazed and aroused. He thinks he could come just listening to the musician's heart beat this way for him. But now he knows that there are endless possibilities and it's confirmed that he hopes this is more than a one night stand. What a privilege to be able to hear this man's heartbeat on a regular basis! Suddenly, Misha envies every other member of the band.

“Can you…” he gasps out, feeling nervous but knowing that Jensen will give him what he wants. “Can you make it skip more? Like on the intro to ‘Demon Eyes’…”

Jensen grins. “Anything for you, angel,” he promises, then draws another breath and Misha feels Jensen’s whole body tense. The heartbeat in his ears suddenly turns into a sustained rhythm of consecutive skips, and it amazes Misha how Jensen’s able to make his heart do that without becoming dizzy. It’s incredible what the man is able to do.

Just when Misha starts to worry that the skipping has gone on too long to be safe, he feels Jensen’s heart slip into a strong, regular sinus rhythm again and then the younger man’s lips are once again on this. “You like that?” Jensen murmurs between kisses, but just as Misha’s about to moan out a “yes” the rockstar silences him. “Shh. Let your heart tell me.”

Jensen’s hand splays flat over Misha’s sternum, feeling the fury of his heart beneath his ribs. The green eyed man smirks. “As I thought.” In the next instant, he’s trying to tug Misha’s shirt off completely, needing to get closer to his heart. For a few agonizing seconds it means the stethoscope loses contact with Jensen’s chest, and the silence is deafening before Jensen finishes pulling off his own shirt and then crushes the chestpiece over his heart again. “Here. Listen to it.” He takes Misha’s hand and holds it firmly against his chest, keeping the diaphragm in place. His skin is burning beneath Misha’s hand. “ _Feel it._ ”

Misha closes his eyes and loses himself to the sound. This heartbeat right here…the one that’s alive and real beneath his hand… It’s like something from a dream, more perfect than any digital copy could sound on a CD or mp3 file… He’s so lost in the sound that he isn’t even prepared for what happens next. Jensen reaches for his belt and deftly works it open.

Cool air touches Misha's skin and his eyes fly open as he glances down and finds Jensen's hands eagerly pulling the man's jeans down. To get them- and Misha's boxers off- properly, he has to move away from the range of the stethoscope, and so places an apologetic kiss to the disphragm, promising to return.

When Misha is fully nude, the rockstar looks him over appreciatively and smirks and he gives Misha's cock a few gentle strokes, teasing him further. "Well, someone is enjoying this as much as I am..." He gives the shaft a squeeze and groans slightly. "I can feel your pulse..."

Misha can no longer sit still, squirming and rolling his hips, a wanton mess of desperation. Jensen chuckles quietly and steps away long enough to go to his suitcase, opening it and digging through to the bottom, coming up with a bottle of lubricant.

Finally, he makes his way back over to the other man and smiles down at him. "Miss me?" Misha is beyond words, looking up at him and moaning. Jensen chuckles again and scoops Misha up, moving him to the center of the bed. The rockstar sheds his own jeans and boxers before kneeling on the bed between Misha's legs, bending the older man's knees so his feet were flat on the bed.

"God, you're fucking gorgeous," Jensen comments. "Especially with my stethoscope in your ears." He reaches up and moves the diaphragm to Misha's chest, directly over his pulmonic ausculation point. "Tell me what you hear."

At the sound of his own heartbeat, Misha gasps audibly. "J-Jensen," he moans. "Oh god, it-- it's so loud. It's beating so fast..."

Jensen grins. "Good. Listen to it until I'm ready to, okay?" He pours the lube into his hand and spreads it over his first three fingers, reaching down to trace Misha's entrance, coaxing it to relax and let in his first finger.

It isn't long before Misha notices the tingling sensation. God, what is this man trying to do to him? Kill him?! It feels incredible and his cock begins to drool precum. Jensen watches, desire burning in his eyes. This fan- this beautiful angel on earth- is the greatest thing he's sure he's ever seen. It's quite a sight: the stethoscope, his hand bouncing in time with his heartbeat, his pink lips parted, his sapphire eyes heavy with lust...

Misha cries out when a second finger is added and Jensen scissors him open. His heart isn't holding a steady rhythm as he is overwhelmed by the sound and everything he's feeling. He squirms and rolls his hips against Jensen's fingers until the musician holds his hips in place. "Shh, I've got you..."

Jensen decides against using a third finger. He's got Misha most of the way open and he wants to be able to stretch him the rest of the way with his cock. He presses his thighs to the underside of Misha's legs and slicks up his cock with the lube, shivering when the tingling sensation kicks in.

Misha's eyes dart between Jensen's cock and the spot on his chest where his apex is visible. He's not sure which sight is more arousing, but it's incredible to witness both. He's breathing as if he's run a mile and his mind is in a fog. He wonders vaguely if he'll even be conscious afterward.

Jensen finally lines up and leans over to press tender kisses to Misha's lips. "Ready, angel? I'm gonna give your heart what it wants..." He takes the earpieces from the man's ears- Misha hadn't even noticed how much they'd been pinching until he's free of them- and places them in his own ears. He places his hand flat over the chest piece after moving it to Misha's mitral, feeling the powerful beat as he listens.

"Unnhh! Your heart is beating so fast for me, Misha," he groans. "I can hear it fluttering... now I wanna hear it skip." Misha can't believe he's hearing those words from Jensen's lips and, as if on cue, his heart does skip, earning another moan from the rockstar. Jensen feels nearly high on this rare and incredible experience. No one really understood his intense passion for the human heart, but it seemed that this stranger did. And this is something Jensen wants- needs- to feel more than once. This fulfillment... this satisfaction... this sensory high.

He draws in a deep breath and pushes his way inside Misha slowly, both of the men moaning from the sensation. Misha's heart throws another skip and Jensen's breath hitches as he brings the man's hand over his own heart. Jensen stills when he's at full depth and for a few seconds, they lose themselves to the beat of each other's hearts.

_Lubdublubdublubdublubdub…_

The frantic pounding seems to resonate through both their bodies, Jensen’s heart finding the rhythm of Misha’s and quickening to match it. It’s as if they’ve both melded together absolutely, breaths and heartbeats falling perfectly into time. They hold each other’s gaze for several moments, enchanted, overwhelmed, before finally the synchronicity is broken as Jensen starts to move.

He goes slowly at first, just the gentlest rock of his hips, but it causes Misha to moan and his heart to flutter as his eyes roll up into the top of his head.

“You like that?” Jensen growls softly, lowering his lips to Misha’s now-exposed throat to gently suck at his pulse point. Misha whimpers.

For all the older man knows, the rest of the world may well have ceased to exist. All he can feel is Jensen: Jensen’s heaving chest beneath his hand, Jensen’s heartbeat inseparable from his own, Jensen deep inside him…

When the rockstar rocks his hips again, sharper this time, Misha lets out a cry. His fingers claw into Jensen’s chest, and he’s rewarded with the feel of the diaphragm being pushed harder against his ribs. Jensen’s teeth nip firmly at his neck. “Your heart’s…so fast…” Jensen pants out, “I’m going to match it for you…” With that, Misha feels Jensen thrust even harder into him, and he doesn’t even have time to adjust before Jensen snaps his hips forward again and starts to pick up pace. A dizzying high overwhelms him as the speed starts to accelerate to keep up with his heart. He’s seeing stars, eyelids fluttering as he feels his pulse pounding in his temples, his whole body trembling. He isn’t prepared for it when he feels Jensen’s hand reach down to wrap around his cock- the other still keeping the chestpiece firmly in place- and begins to tug.

This time, Misha can’t help but cry out the rock god’s name. “ _Jensen!_ ”

In its wake, the world suddenly feels strangely silent as Misha swears his heart stops completely. There’s a lull, a space between heartbeats where they both find themselves floating in a state of ecstasy, and then the world catches up with them. As Misha’s heart finally kicks back into action, the force of it shakes his whole chest, almost as if it wants to jump right out and surrender itself to Jensen. Misha knows he’s already completely at the rock star’s mercy. Jensen has been the master of his heart ever since Heart of Angels’ first album was released all those years ago, and Misha had fallen in love with that beautiful, strong heartbeat. To think that same heartbeat is now the one right here beneath his hand, pounding all for him, makes Misha’s head spin. He lets out another soft whimper.

Delighted by his reaction, Jensen moans fervently into his skin. “Misha…” he growls, voice low and possessive. “ _Misha._ ”

The sound of that name on Jensen lips, his name, makes Misha’s heart stutter once more. The tingling pressure between his legs is climbing to a peak, and just hearing Jensen moan his name is almost enough to push him over the edge. Even in his wildest fantasies, Misha could never have imagined that sex with Jensen Ackles would be as perfect as this.

There is a fine line between fantasy and reality and Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles seem to have stretched that line thinner than ever as they move together with a distinct rhythm, mirroring that of their thunderous hearts. This is everything Misha has ever dreamed of and more. It's everything Jensen has ever needed in a partner. There is no world, there is no universe, there is no hotel. There is only Misha, his idol and lover, and the synchronous beating of their hearts.

It's like having a hummingbird trapped in your ribcage and your mind trapped in a dream. The only thing grounding either of the men in reality is their gasps for breath. Neither of them thinking, neither speaking save for to moan the other's name; both just moving and breathing and existing. Sweat rolls down their bodies and almost stings their sensitive flesh. Misha knows he has either died and this is his heaven, or he will not survive the end of this. Either way, he's happy as any human could ever be. Jensen has never been so driven by the sound of anyone's heartbeat, not even his own. In the past, he's had a few forgiving partners who tried to indulge him, but did not share the interest themselves. This is beyond anything he's ever hoped for. He always assumed he'd settle for whomever came the closet to being accepting of it. He knows he needs Misha and they've only just met.

They've both lost track of time. They don't know if they've been melded together like this for seconds or hours, but it feels like eternity and there's nowhere else either of them wants to be. At last, Misha finally mewls, "Je-Jensen... I'm-I'm... please..." he gasps. "C-come inside me."

Jensen lets out another possessive growl and bites down on Misha's collarbone, pumping his cock nearly as fast as both of their hearts are pumping. The thrusting of his hips lose rhythm and just as Misha screams out his name, he comes hard. Stars dance behind his eyelids as he squeezes them shut, "Unhh.... g-god, Misha!" His heart skips viciously, slamming against Misha's palm as if saying 'take me, I'm yours now'.

Arching off the bed as he paints the musician's hand and stomach white, Misha is reduced to an incoherent mess of whimpers and cries. He's dizzy with the force of his orgasm and his heart gallops in his chest, nearly deafening the man listening to it.

When they both come down from the peak of the climax, they're panting and gasping for breath, slowly relaxing into each other. They each meet the other's gaze again at last and, despite the marathon Misha's heart has just run, it misses two beats in a row. The intensity of that emerald gaze makes him feel both a thrill and like he is at home


	4. If We're Sharing a Dream, Let's Never Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blissed out by not only the sex, but the passion and intimacy they shared, Jensen and Misha decide that this is something they never want to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF ALERT

Jensen smiles, a softness in his eyes as he at long last lifts the chestpiece from Misha’s skin. Left behind is a red ring that pulsates minutely with each visible beat of Misha’s heart. Jensen traces gentle fingers around the outline and then lowers his lips to crown it with a tender, reverent kiss. “That was incredible, Misha,” he whispers hoarsely, before lifting his eyes to once more meet that of his fan. “You’re incredible.” He leans in to bring his mouth gently against Misha’s, kissing passionately as if wanting Misha to taste the beating of his heart still on Jensen’s lips.

“Your heartbeat…” Misha breathes out between kisses, still floating on a dreamy high as his palm lingers of Jensen’s warm chest. “I never imagined I could love it more than I already did, but that was…the best experience of my life.” He seals his lips over Jensen’s once more, their kissing relaxed and almost lazy now, not driven by frenzied need. Now they’re just happy to lie here and drink each other in, savouring each gradually steadying heartbeat. “How is it so slow already?” Misha murmurs, amazed by how rapidly Jensen’s heart has returned to a slow, even pace.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Jensen answers with a smile. “Got to slow it down on stage a lot.”

“I think mine’s still trying to escape,” Misha remarks, and Jensen chuckles softly.

“Here, let me help.” He keeps one hand lying flat over Misha’s heart while he moves the other to hold Misha’s hand over his own. “Breathe with me.” He draws in deep, even breaths, ensuring Misha follows each one by the movement of Jensen’s chest beneath his hand. They never break eye contact, but as Misha fights to regain control of his heart and stay breathing in time with Jensen, he feels his pulse gradually slowing to match Jensen’s as before.

“Better?” the rockstar asks when he feels Misha’s heart had slowed.

Misha gives a sleepy smile and hums, "Better, but... I wouldn't have minded if it had escaped. I know you'd take care of it." He moves his hand from Jensen's chest and cards his fingers through his hair tenderly. "I'm going to be extremely disappointed when I wake up and find out that this has all been a dream. You're everything I've ever imagined... and better than that even. I'm... I'm in awe of you. As if I wasn't before, but... getting to know you a little tonight... I'm blown away. Are you sure you're even a real person?"

Jensen laughs fondly, leaning into the hand in his hair. "Well, you've heard me lose control of my heartbeat tonight. I think that should confirm that I am /definitely/ a real person. But don't forget that you've blown me away, too. You think I just sleep with anyone? You and I connected, Misha. Our /hearts/ connected. I've never had that happen before. I've never met someone with the same passion as me. Jared, Jason, Rob... all the guys in the band assume that this is just some 'revolutionary' new music thing. Any partners I've had in the past... they've tried to indulge me or understand, but there's no connection when the passion isn't shared. A few have even thought it was weird of me. Apparently listening to a person's heartbeat is invasive. I think it's emotional, spiritual, and can even be romantic. You can lie and put on a facade all day, but your heart always tells the truth. And... if this is a dream, then we're sharing the same dream cloud and, in that case..." He pauses to kiss Misha tenderly. "I vote that neither of us ever wakes up," he whispers.

Misha has melted at the man's words and does no more than stare into the jade pools of the musician's eyes with a smile. Eventually, he sighs and looks a little heartbroken. "I suppose you'd like me to leave now then..."

"Leave?!" Jensen huffs out a laugh of disbelief. "Why would you leave? I just said that we connected. I don't want you to leave. Not tonight. You'll have to go home tomorrow because I fly to Fort Lauderdale for my next gig, but... tonight, stay. Please? I want to get to know you more, but right now... I want to fall asleep with you."

Misha can't tell him no. Not when Jensen is looking at him with hopeful eyes. And to be honest, Misha doesn't want to leave anyway. "Okay," he concedes. "But I have one condition: we desperately need showers."

Jensen glances down at the both of them, realising how sticky they are from come and sweat. “We do,” he says, rolling off of Misha and then standing up. He leaves the stethoscope on the nightstand and then offers his hand to the other man, who takes it as Jensen leads him towards the bathroom. Misha still feels like he’s walking in a dream. Jensen’s grip on his hand is firm and warm, grounding him, and he notices how Jensen is deliberately keeping a finger over his pulse.

The bathroom is just as luxurious as Misha would expect for a luxury suite in a luxury hotel. Jensen leads him over the marble tiled floor to the shower- which, aside from the main head, has more jets and sprays coming out of the sides than Misha cares to count-and turns it on. Jensen tests the water with his fingers before pulling Misha underneath the hot stream, grinning. “C’mere,” he says as he draws Misha closer, and then kisses him again.

Misha’s heart skips in surprise, but he kisses back eagerly. Already, he realises Jensen’s hand has moved to his chest again, feeling for his heart’s reaction. “I missed feeling this already,” Jensen murmurs. “I want to know what it does next.”

“It’s still racing for you,” Misha replies, and Jensen grins.

“I can tell.” He seems almost reluctant when his hand leaves Misha’s chest to reach for the body wash. “Come on, I’m supposed to be getting you cleaned up…” Jensen tilts his head forward, bringing his forehead into contact with Misha’s. Even as Jensen’s hands explore Misha’s body, working the soap into a lather on his skin, their eyes never leave each other’s. Misha is breathing heavily again, hardly able to believe he’s here with Jensen. He’s more confident when he reaches for the bodywash himself and starts to clean Jensen’s chest, eager to feel his heartbeat once more.

Jensen gasps when he feels Misha’s nails scrape over his skin, and his eyes flutter shut as he throws back his head. The action exposes his throat, and Misha watches, transfixed, as the streams of water run over his neck, following the lines of muscle and tendons until they curve over Jensen’s collarbone and cascade over his chest. Misha realises Jensen’s pulse is clearly visible at the base of his throat. He digs his nails in again, and is rewarded by seeing the way Jensen’s pulse jumps.

A soft moan keens in the back of Jensen’s throat. “Please don’t leave,” he whispers as he brings his head forward again, meeting Misha’s eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay. For tonight. I want it to last.”

Misha wraps his arms around Jensen's neck and presses close until he can feel Jensen's heart beating next to his. They're still in sync somehow and Misha savors the fact. "Jensen... you owned my heart before you even knew I existed. You've owned my heart since the moment I first heard yours, four years ago. That's no different now. I want our time together to last, too. I still can't believe this is real."

Jensen smiles and traces shapes over Misha's wet skin. "This is probably the most real thing I've ever felt. I don't think tonight can be enough for me. I-- this is going to sound insane, but... I want to see you again. After tonight. Next time we're in Boston or somewhere close enough for you to come, I want to see you. I'll make sure you can get to the concert if you want to be there. I'll send a pass and a ticket and a car if I have to. You can stay at a hotel with me before and after if you want. I just... I don't think I can afford to let someone like you slip through my fingers."

Surprised, Misha stares at Jensen. "Are you... are you serious?" Jensen purses his lips and nods. "Okay. Yes. I'll be there. The very next time you're local. And if you're in Boston... you don't have to waste money on a hotel. You can... you can stay at my place." He suddenly feels extremely shy, like that's something he shouldn't have offered.

"That sounds like a perfect plan." Jensen smiles and catches Misha's lips again, reaching behind himself to turn of the water of the shower. "Now, let me take you to bed. You need your rest. We gave your heart a hell of a workout tonight."

Doesn’t Misha know it. His heart’s still fluttering a little at the notion of going to bed with Jensen fucking Ackles, although the violent pounding has- at last- calmed down.

Stepping out of the shower, Jensen hands Misha one of the brilliant white, fluffy towels, but he can’t seem to help himself stealing a few more kisses as the pair of them dry off. He takes Misha’s hand again to lead him back to the bed; and a sleepy, contented bliss has settled on Misha as they climb under the covers. Jensen still seems eager to keep kissing, thumb gently pressing on Misha’s carotid in curiosity at how his heart will react, but when they finally grow tired enough to settle down, Misha lowers his head to rest on Jensen’s chest. It’s a warm, welcoming pillow, gently rising and falling in time with Jensen’s breathing and with the soft lullaby of his heartbeat beneath Misha’s ear.

Jensen chuckles softly when he realises what Misha’s doing. “You really love it, don’t you?” he remarks. “Hearing my heart.”

Misha hums contentedly into Jensen’s chest. “You know I sometimes do this at home? Stripped down a few Heart of Angels tracks so it’s just your heartbeat. Listening to them, it’s like…” he trails off and changes direction. “Sorry, is that too weird?”

Misha worries he’s finally pushed things into the realms of crazy stalker fan, but Jensen just sighs softly and brings up a hand to start combing through Misha’s hair. It’s beyond relaxing. “Not at all,” Jensen replies sincerely. “It just tells me what I already know. You’re…special, Misha. You get it. This means so much to you.”

Warmth begins to spread through Misha’s chest at Jensen’s words. “It’s more than just music,” he murmurs, “This is a part of you that you’re sharing; letting the whole world hear what’s keeping you alive. How could I not respect that? How could I not treasure it?”

At that point, Jensen’s heart gives an unexpected skip. “That’s why I trust you, Misha. The things you do to my heart…”

“Like that?” Misha teases, and Jensen smiles.

“Yes, like that. You make me lose control in ways I’m not used to, but it feels safe. I know you understand this, this… thing we have. I know it means as much to you as it does to me.”

“It means everything,” Misha replies, almost too quiet to be heard.  
Jensen just smiles contentedly in response, continuing to tenderly card his fingers through Misha’s hair. His heartbeat remains steady and calm, and Misha feels that he’s losing himself further as the sound envelops him.

“Sleep, angel,” Jensen whispers, although after how long, Misha isn’t sure. “I promise you’re not dreaming. I’ll still be here in the morning, and I’m not going to let this go. We’ll see each other again.”

Comforted by that promise, Misha finally releases his grip on consciousness and allows Jensen’s steady heartbeat to carry him off to sleep.


End file.
